


All I Want for Christmas is You

by todxrxki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, just a fun fake dating christmas fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todxrxki/pseuds/todxrxki
Summary: “Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 18
Kudos: 311
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics





	All I Want for Christmas is You

“Kenma,” comes the mildly scolding voice on the other end of the phone. Kenma cringes, then internally reprimands himself for it. It’s his own mother, after all. He shouldn’t be cringing to talk to her. But… “You haven’t called in weeks, you know. Your father and I are positively wasting away without news from our one and only son.” 

“Sorry, work and stuff have been crazy busy,” Kenma lies. It’s true enough that work is busy, actually, but that’s not the reason that Kenma hasn’t called. No, the reason is - 

“And stuff?!” his mother exclaims. “Is  _ stuff  _ a person? Has my wonderful son finally found someone worthy of him?” 

The reason is  _ that. _

For some reason, ever since Kenma turned twenty-five, his mother has become absolutely obsessed with his love life. Every innocuous conversation quickly derails into an interrogation. Recently she’s even taken to sending Kenma photos of “eligible bachelors in his area.” Kenma knows that she means well and just wants Kenma to be happy, and he knows it could be much, much worse - he could have a non-accepting family, for one - but the thing is that Kenma is perfectly satisfied with where he is in his life right now: living in a house on the outskirts of Tokyo with his housemate of two years and their five cats. He doesn’t  _ need  _ a romantic interest.

But his mother sure seems to think he does. 

Sighing, he quickly develops a plan akin to his hastily constructed strategies in his favorite video games. What his mother doesn’t know, he thinks, won’t hurt her. “Actually, yeah,” he hedges. “There is, uh, there is this guy I’ve been seeing for the past month or two.”

“You’ve been seeing - what?!” his mother says, her voice practically breaking the noise barrier. “You’ve been dating someone, and you didn’t tell me?!”

Kenma cringes, trying to think of a good explanation that doesn’t sound like a complete fabrication. “I wanted to surprise you?”

“Oh, at our Christmas gathering?” his mother says. “Well, I suppose that’s a fine explanation. But you’ll have to bring him so we can assess if he’s good enough for our Kenma, you know.” 

Well,  _ shit.  _

“Uh, yeah,” Kenma croaks out, trying not to convey his internal sense of overwhelming panic through his words. “Sure. I’ll bring him.” He manages some quick words of farewell, then hangs up the phone, his heart pounding.  _ Shit.  _ Where is he supposed to find someone to pretend to be his boyfriend in a matter of weeks? Should he put out an ad in the local newspaper, or on Twitter or something? What the hell is the proper protocol for this? 

“Kyanmaaa!” The loud voice rings in Kenma’s ear. “Hey, was that your mom? Did you tell her I said hi?”

Kenma turns around, glaring at the obnoxious guy that’s come up behind him. “Yes, it was my mom. And unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to tell her anything, so no, I didn’t.”

Kenma’s housemate softens significantly at the pure anguish in Kenma’s tone. He’s always been good at reading Kenma like that, Kenma supposes. “What was it about this time, then?”

“The same as ever,” Kenma groans, leaning back on the couch and stretching out like a cat. “She kept bugging me about my romantic life or whatever, over and over. I’m pretty sure she was one step from arranging a marriage  _ for  _ me.”

“Was?” Kuroo is too observant, as always. Kenma hates and loves that about him in equal parts. 

“Well, I kind of lied to her,” Kenma admits sheepishly. “I told her that I’ve been seeing someone.”

Kuroo turns to him, a look of surprise on his face mixed with an emotion that Kenma can’t quite identify. “You’ve been seeing someone?”

“No, Kuro,” Kenma says with a sigh. “Obviously not. I lied. And now she wants me to bring a date with me to Christmas dinner, so I have to find someone to pretend to be my date for Christmas or else I’m gonna risk looking like an even  _ bigger  _ loser in her eyes. So…”

Kuroo looks at him with warm, dark eyes full of sympathy and says, “Well, you fucked that one up,” and that’s when it clicks in Kenma’s head. All of the pieces of Kenma’s strategy to get his mother off his back finally fall into place. 

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.” 

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing  _ that  _ out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?”

Kuroo stares at him for a moment without blinking. Total silence settles over the two of them for a moment before Kuroo finally splutters out, “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?!”

“Just for a little bit,” Kenma mumbles, trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. “We can pretend to break up soon. I just - I really need to get my mom off my back, and you always come to our Christmas dinners anyways, so it just makes sense. Please? I’ll do whatever you want in return.”

Kuroo stares at him evenly. Kenma’s somewhat worried, but not really; Kuroo has never been known for his ability to deny Kenma anything. “Buy me one month of groceries,” Kuroo says finally, and Kenma’s body relaxes all at once.  _ Thank god.  _ He’s not going to become Loser of the Year in his own mother’s eyes. 

“I’ll buy you two months’ worth,” Kenma replies. It’s not a big deal, honestly; Kenma has more than enough money to cover it, and he really wants to show Kuroo how grateful he is for this small act of kindness. 

“Deal,” Kuroo says, and then, “So let’s discuss our strategy then,” because to Kuroo Tetsurou, life is just a volleyball game or a chemical equation to be solved, but Kenma’s come to appreciate that about him. 

“Yeah,” he says, and then pulls out his laptop. “I’ll make a doc and share it with you.”

.

“One more time,” Kenma says as they make their way out of the bustling metro station, both of them bundled up in multiple layers of coats and sweaters and scarves. 

“You really think I’m gonna fuck this up, don’t you?”

“Well, no. Not really. I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page so I don’t embarrass myself at the family Christmas gathering.” 

Kuroo sighs. “Fine. You confessed to me about a month ago, because you figured out I was in love with you - I still don’t think you’d be able to pick up on something like that, but whatever, I guess. We decided to date that very day. We hadn’t told them yet because we wanted to make sure it would work, but it’s been going well so far, so screw it, right?” 

“Exactly,” Kenma says, nodding. “Where was our first date?”

“God, I feel like I’m back in school all over again. It was a picnic at the park we used to play volleyball at, and I planned it, obviously, because you’d never plan something as cheesy - read, actually meaningful - as that.” 

Kenma nods, finally satisfied, as they slowly begin to make their way up the street where the two grew up. He turns to Kuroo, holding out one gloved hand. “Uh, we should… right?”

Kuroo stares down at Kenma’s hand as though it’s a foreign object and not a completely normal, if not a bit small compared to KUuroo’s, human hand. “You want me to hold your hand?”

“I mean, couples hold hands, do they not?” Kenma asks, a bit earnestly because in all of his twenty-five years on this earth, Kenma has yet to actually be in a real relationship. His scattered trysts in locker years with Akaashi in his third year or the few dates he’d scored on a dating app that Kenma had ghosted after one date because they’d never felt  _ right  _ do not count. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo manages, swallowing, and Kenma does not understand why Kuroo is being so weird. But then Kuroo’s much bigger gloved hand encloses itself around Kenma’s. Even though there are two layers of fabric between them, he can feel the heat from Kuroo’s hand against his. It feels… weirdly nice.

_ Nice?  _ Kenma reprimands himself. They’re just playing a role, after all. He pushes those thoughts away and wills them to never come back. 

They make it to the house hand-in-hand, and Kenma’s mother answers the door within seconds as though she’s been anxiously anticipating their arrival - which she probably has. “Kenma! Tetsurou!” she says brightly. “Wow, it’s so good to see you two! Merry, merry Christmas! But, uh, Kenma - didn’t you say you’d be bringing a guest?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kenma says, suddenly feeling anxious for some odd reason. Kuroo gives his hand a gentle squeeze, though, and that’s the only encouragement Kenma needs. He motions his head over towards Kuroo. “This is him.”

Kenma’s mother stands in, what Kenma assumes must be shell-shocked silence, for a moment before she finally makes a sound. It’s not what Kenma expects, though - not an exclamation of surprise or the beginnings of a rapid-fire questioning or even a noise of disapproval. No, instead, she just starts to laugh. 

_ Laugh?!  _ Kenma doesn’t understand. What, does she not believe him or something? Had he not been convincing enough? He considers reaching up, brushing his lips lightly against the rough stubble of Kuroo’s cheek to try to sell the act, then wonders why thinking about it is somehow enough to make him blush. But then Kenma’s mom calls out, “Kenma and Tetsurou have just told me they're  _ dating, _ ” to the couch where Kenma’s father must be sitting, and the nerves Kenma experiences only increase exponentially. 

“Ugh, son,” his father groans out, and Kenma does not understand one bit - what, do they not approve of Kuroo or something? They’d always treated Kuroo like one of their own sons and sung his praises the moment Kuroo stepped out the door. What problem could they possibly have with Kenma choosing to date him? But then his father says, “You couldn’t have waited just another couple of months? I had my money on you two getting together next year,” and suddenly Kenma feels like he’s had a bucket of cold water dumped over him.

“You  _ bet  _ on when Kuro and I would get together?” Kenma chokes out, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed, but also grounded by Kuroo’s hand around his right now when Kenma feels like he’s about to keel over. He can hear Kuroo making a choking sound beside him, which he thinks is disgusting.

“Of course,” his mom says. “We might be old, but we still have eyes, you know? We can see the way Tetsurou looks at you.”  _ And what way is that, exactly?  _ Kenma wants to ask, but knows he can’t. He feels Kuroo freeze up a bit beside him, though, and wonders what exactly  _ that  _ means. “And the way you always talk about Tetsurou like he’s hung the moon.”

“All right,” Kenma interrupts before that train of conversation can go any further. “Where should we put our gifts?” 

Kenma’s mom smiles, directing them into the living room, and Kenma doesn’t miss the coy, too-knowing look his mother sends him. It just doesn’t make any sense, Kenma thinks. What reason could she possibly have to think that Kenma and Kuroo would end up together? Still, he follows her, placing his gifts on the floor before he turns back to his parents. Their faces are too smug. He sighs. “Is the food ready?”

“Just about,” his mother says. “While we wait, why don’t you tell us a little bit more about how the two of you got together?”

_ Right.  _ This is what Kenma had been waiting for, truthfully, what the two of them had been training for. So he launches into the story, making it as detailed as possible - talking about the completely fabricated confession, about his reaction, about how romantic it had all been, all the while feeling a bit like a fraud and a bit of a weird ache… of longing? Which doesn’t make any sense at all, because Kenma doesn’t care one bit about romance. He never has. But somehow thinking about it with Kuroo feels  _ different.  _

God. No. That’s a route he can’t, he  _ won’t,  _ go down. This thing with Kuroo is completely fake, only for Kenma’s benefit. Kuroo doesn’t actually want this with Kenma. He bites down on his lip hard, trying not to draw blood. 

“Kenma, Tetsurou!” Kenma’s mother calls. “Come on, the food’s going to get cold.”

Kenma gives Kuroo a sideways glance, and Kuroo nods, getting up off of the couch to follow him. They make their way into the kitchen, but before they can get there, they’re stopped by Kenma’s mother saying, “Stay there for a moment.” Kenma glances at Kuroo in confusion, and Kuroo gives a tiny shrug in response. Kenma’s mother grins. “Look up!”

Sure enough, there’s mistletoe hanging above their heads. Kenma sighs internally. He had to have gotten his cunning brain from  _ somewhere,  _ he supposes. But he knows that not kissing his boyfriend who he’s already hinted at being fully in love with would be suspicious. He tilts his head up, raising an eyebrow at Kuroo.  _ Are you okay with this?  _

Kuroo gives a slight nod in assent, then whispers, “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don't feel comfortable with it. I can make up some lie about not wanting to give you my cold or something, I’m sure she’d buy it - “

Kenma rolls his eyes, then wraps his arms around the back of Kuroo’s neck, leaning up. “It’s just a kiss,” he says indifferently. “Not that big a deal. So just do it already.” 

It is not, in fact, just a kiss. 

Well, technically it is. But Kenma’s never spent any period of time contemplating the feel of Kuroo’s lips, and he’s confronted with them now. Kuroo’s lips are soft. Kenma’s not sure why he’s surprised by that, but he is. The way Kuroo kisses is warm, inviting, and Kenma finds himself craving more. He doesn’t know what that means.

Or, rather - maybe he does, but that’s a road he’s not prepared to go down just yet. 

He knows that their kiss was supposed to be just a peck, a quick meeting of lips, but he finds himself getting a little bit lost in it. Weirdly enough, Kuroo doesn’t seem to be pulling back either. His hand tightens on the back of Kenma’s neck, gripping harder, pulling Kenma closer, and Kenma doesn’t want to pull away. He’s halfway conscious that they’re being watched, but the thought is tucked in the back of his mind, everything else being consumed by Kuroo, Kuroo,  _ Kuroo. _

But then Kenma’s mother clears her throat, and the two of them spring apart, matching blushes on their cheeks. “Had to stop you before you got too carried away,” she scolds. The smile on her face tells Kenma that she fully believes it.

Kenma feels weird about that, too. This is what he’d wanted, right? He’d wanted his parents to buy into their charade. 

He just hadn’t wanted to get personally invested in their fake relationship himself. 

He shakes his head to bring himself back down to earth and steps into the kitchen, giving Kuroo a playful nudge as if to say  _ “Yeah, don’t get too carried away in front of my parents, idiot.”  _ But his heart is still racing and his cheeks are still flushed and he feels like a little bit of a disaster - and shit, isn’t being the disaster in their friendship Kuroo’s job, not his? 

As they dig into the meal and Kuroo scolds Kenma for his lack of veggies, piling some extra cauliflower onto his plate, Kenma’s mom says in a soft tone, “You know, you two really are good together.” Kenma glances up at her in shock, nearly dropping his utensils. Undeterred, his mother continues, “I had an inkling, y’know, when you told me you were gay. I wasn’t that surprised, because you talked about Tetsurou so often. Every day after school, it was  _ Kuro did this, Kuro said that,  _ and you never really had anything to say about anyone else. Just Tetsurou.”

“‘Kaa-san, please,” Kenma pleads, his cheeks turning red. God, he really should’ve just tried to rope in some random outsider. At least some guy hearing about his childhood stories wouldn’t be half as embarrassing as this.

Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him, and Kenma glares at him, a silent threat not to egg his mom on. But unfortunately, Kuroo has never been scared of him. “Oh? Tell me more?”

“He always thought you were so cool,” his mother says wistfully. “He’d say weird phrases at breakfast sometimes, and when his father and I asked, he’d always say, ‘Oh, Kuro said that.’ He wanted to be like you.”

“I did not,” Kenma grumbles. 

“You did,” his father chimes in, and Kenma turns his glare on his father.  _ What a traitor.  _ Only chiming in the conversation to cement Kenma’s humiliation. He prays to the gods that he’ll just melt away on the spot. His father continues, “But we’re very happy for the two of you, you know that. I can’t imagine anyone who’d treat our boy better than you, Tetsurou.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kuroo promises, and then, in a softer tone, “I’ll treat him right. I know how lucky I am, and I intend to make sure he knows that too, every single day.” It sounds… oddly sincere. 

One of Kuroo’s most pivotal flaws, in Kenma’s opinion, is his inability to lie. As a kid, his voice would get too high-pitched when he told a fib, and his grandmother would immediately call him out for it. As Kuroo has gotten older, he’s also gotten better at lying to the point that most people who don’t know him inside and out wouldn’t be able to tell, but Kenma can always tell. When he’s lying, Kuroo’s eyes dart to the side; his cheeks redden a bit, and his voice gets a tiny bit higher.

None of that happens right now, though. Kuroo’s tone is even, his blush has dissipated, and his eyes stay fixated on Kenma’s father. But…Kuroo’s lying, right? He has to be. 

Kenma tries to wipe the look of utter confusion off his features. “Gross,” he gripes, which makes his parents chuckle, and he digs back into his food.  _ What the hell is going on? _

They decide to open presents next. Kenma gets a new headset and some cash from his parents, which he’s very grateful for. He gives his mom a fancy necklace and a few nice pairs of trousers for his dad. And then he hands Kuroo his present. 

Kuroo opens it, looks at the picture in the box, and immediately turns on Kenma, his eyes wide. Kenma lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “You kept complaining about the couch and how it wasn’t big enough for movie nights or not comfortable enough or whatever. So I got a new one. It’s being delivered to the house right now. No big deal.”

“I didn’t think you were listening,” Kuroo says, a strange undertone in his voice that Kenma can’t comprehend. Kuroo clears his throat and continues, “Thank you, my love,” which in theory, is disgusting, but in practice sends a shiver up his spine. Something about being referred to as Kuroo’s love is oddly appealing. 

_ Don’t get too used to it,  _ he reminds himself. This, like many things in life, is merely temporary. He blinks at Kuroo. “Where’s my gift, then?”

“So demanding.” Kuroo shoots a conspiratorial wink at Kenma’s parents, because he’s irritating like that, and Kenma hates that he finds it endearing. He produces a decent sized box and passes it to Kenma. “Here you go, little prince.”

Kenma ignores the subtle jab, instead opting to tear into the package in front of him. He picks up the contents with mildly shaking hands. “You - what? How did you find this? I’ve been looking for this game for years, but there were only, like, thirty copies produced, and I…” He finds himself suddenly at a loss for words, and he looks up at Kuroo, wide-eyed.

“I pulled a couple of strings, talked to some people I know, no big deal,” Kuroo says with a shrug, as though it were effortless, but Kenma can tell by the draw of his mouth (and the fact that there are only 30 copies in the game in existence) that he’d spent a lot of time on this. God. No one has ever gone to these lengths for Kenma before. 

It’s likely that no one else ever would. 

He ignores the way his heart speeds up, the blood that rushes to his cheeks, telltale signs of a disaster. Kuroo continues, “Oh. There’s more, by the way.”

“More?” Kenma feels like he might explode on the spot, which would be rather unfortunate. “How can there be more?”

“Just. Look in the box,” Kuroo says, shifting uncomfortably. Kenma blinks, unsure of the reason for Kuroo’s trepidation, but he searches through the box nonetheless. And then he sees it. 

It’s a ring. A ring. On a chain, but a ring nonetheless. 

Kenma’s breath catches in his throat. He glances up at Kuroo, his eyes wide, and Kenma’s mom cuts in, “Oh, is this a proposal already? God, you’ve only been together like a month! Isn’t that rushing it a bit?”

“No, no,” Kuroo cuts in. Kenma exhales. Slowly though, it begins to dawn on him that if it were a proposal, he would’ve considered saying yes. He pushes that thought away quickly , and looks up, waiting for Kuroo to continue explaining. Kuroo says, “It’s just… symbolic, I guess? Like, a promise. That it’s always been Kenma for me, and it always will be.”

The first thought Kenma has is that his parents seem properly fooled, oohing and aahing over the smoothness of Kuroo’s words and the beauty of the ring. The second thought is that, even as Kuroo sends him a desperate look asking him not to read too much into it, that it’s just to sell the act, it still doesn’t seem like he’d been lying. None of his telltale signs are there. 

  
  


Kenma holds the necklace up to his neck. “Kuro, can you fasten this for me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kuroo says. His hands shake the slightest bit as he fastens the necklace around Kenma’s neck, and it’s in that moment that Kenma  _ knows.  _

Holy shit.

Later that night, after Kenma’s mom ushers them back to Kenma’s room. She gives them a tiny smile, says, “I’d offer to get out the futon, but I think we both know you two wouldn’t use it anyways.” She gives them a smirk that’s all too familiar. Kenma resists the urge to stick his tongue out at her behind her back. 

“I can take the floor,” Kuroo says, scratching the back of his neck, his gaze downcast. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Kenma says. “The bed’s big enough. Come on.” Kenma climbs into the bed, laying down flat on his back. Kuroo climbs in beside him, leaving just the slightest bit of space between the two of them. After a beat of silence, Kenma finally says, “Well.”

“Well,” Kuroo echoes.

Kenma turns on his side just enough so that he can see the look on Kuroo’s face. “You meant it, didn’t you.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kuroo splutters, but the widening of his eyes and the red tint of his cheeks are a dead giveaway. 

“You meant it. You really like me. Like that.”

“God, I hate how observant you are,” Kuroo complains. “Fine. Yes, I meant it. I wasn’t pretending, and… and I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have hid my intentions from you, I know. But it’s fine. It doesn’t have to change anything, okay?”

One of Kenma’s hands moves up to brush the necklace around his neck, and the familiar heat comes rushing back to his cheeks. He hopes Kuroo won’t notice. Quietly, he mutters, “What if I want it to change, though?”

“...what?” Kuroo says, his head snapping to look over at Kenma as though he’s having trouble believing it.

Kenma can’t stand it any longer. He moves over and cups Kuroo’s cheeks, capturing Kuroo’s lips in a searing kiss. 

For a moment, Kuroo is still, as though he’s shocked by Kenma’s sudden movements, but then he starts to wake up. His lips move beneath Kenma’s, his hands make their way to Kenma’s side, pulling Kenma closer to him. Kenma feels like he’s been hit by a fireball by a creature in one of his games and is slowly burning alive.

It’s really enjoyable, though. Kenma hadn’t pegged himself for a pyromaniac. He supposes he’ll have to reevaluate that. 

“You like me,” Kuroo breathes out, merely inches from Kenma’s lips. Suddenly, he sits up and Kenma’s heart skips a beat. Had his kissing really been that bad? Had Kuroo changed his mind? But then Kuroo interrupts his thoughts and says, “Wait, shit, is there mistletoe in here or something?”

Kenma can’t help it. He bursts out laughing at that, and Kuroo glares at him for a minute until Kenma settles down. “You think there’s mistletoe over my bed?”

“Maybe,” Kuroo says helplessly, and weirdly enough, Kenma finds it kind of cute. 

“Is it so hard to believe I feel the same way about you as you do about me?”

“Yes,” Kuroo says. “I don’t think I’ve earned enough karma in this life for someone like you to be in love with someone like me.”

“Well, surprise,” Kenma says, the smile tugging at his lips involuntarily as he brushes his lips against Kuroo’s again, whispering, “Merry Christmas,” against them. Kuroo pulls him down hard, their mouths collide. Kenma finds himself getting lost in them, in  _ Kuroo. _

“You’re the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten,” Kuroo says a few minutes later, which completely kills the mood. 

Kenma rolls off of Kuroo, frowning. “Did you come with a return receipt, then?”

“You bastard,” Kuroo complains, kicking at him.

But Kenma falls asleep that night with his head on Kuroo’s chest and one hand resting on the chain around his neck, and he thinks that his parents had a point, for once. Maybe this had always been inevitable. 

_ Thanks, Mom. _

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!  
> I just had the urge to write a cliche Kuroken Christmas fic for some reason, so, uh, here you go. Hope you all have a wonderful holiday and enjoy my little fluff fic!! It's a little rushed but, well, y'know.  
> Special shoutout to Chi for reading this!! I appreciate it so much!!  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


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